


Needing is One Thing, and Getting—Getting’s Another

by kiwikero



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, M/M, Moving On, Old Friends, Post-Divorce, Returning Home, Second Chances, not between Harry and Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikero/pseuds/kiwikero
Summary: Six months and moving back home is what it takes for Louis to finally start getting over his divorce.





	Needing is One Thing, and Getting—Getting’s Another

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Needing/Getting by OK Go.
> 
> _I've been waiting for months, waiting for years, waiting for you to change._   
>  _Aw, but there ain't much that's dumber, there ain't much that's dumber_   
>  _Than pinning your hopes on a change in another._
> 
> _And I, yeah I still need you, but what good's that gonna do?_   
>  _Needing is one thing, and getting—getting's another._
> 
> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Need". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/need/works), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works) or find the masterpost for this year’s challenge here.

It felt like failing, to come home. The empty walls of his new flat and the cardboard boxes labeled in a hasty felt-tipped scrawl seemed to mock him, as if he could forget how pathetic he was.

With a tired sigh, Louis grabbed the box labeled ‘bedding’ and carried it down the hall to his new bedroom. It wasn’t a large flat, only one bedroom, but it was close to where he’d be working and the rent was reasonable.

Besides, one person didn’t need an awful lot of space anyway.

His bed was already assembled, thankfully, courtesy of his stepfather and brother-in-law, but Louis didn’t have the energy to make it. Instead he dug out a sheet to throw over the bare mattress and a light blanket to cover himself with, not even bothering to put a case on his pillow. As he crawled in between the blanket and sheet, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he imagined the look on Nora’s face if she could see him right now. She never would have gotten into a half-made bed, and picturing her disapproval gave him a smug sense of satisfaction. She wasn’t here to see, though Louis still situated himself on his usual side of the bed. He knew tomorrow he would have to remind himself to hang his clothes in both sides of the closet, and that all the drawers in the dresser were his to use.

It had been six months, and Louis was still learning how to be single again. He wasn’t sure he’d ever truly feel single, as if by allowing someone into his heart she still held some sort of claim there, a flag planted in the dirt. He hoped not, hoped he could reclaim his heart for his own—perhaps so one day a new flag could be planted in its place. It seemed impossible, the idea of moving on, but that was the whole point of this move. He was no longer in the same city as Nora. There would be no running into her in the shops, or seeing her friends at the pub. No letters addressed to her would turn up at his new address, and the flat didn’t smell of her candles and lotions.

Louis rolled over, staring up at the unfamiliar topography of the ceiling, learning the stains and cracks as he willed his mind to settle enough to sleep. A bottle of sleeping pills were tucked into his toiletry bag, but he hated the way they made him feel. He hated even more how much he had come to rely on them the past few months. With a deep breath, Louis forced his eyes closed, trying to let the unfamiliar sounds of his new home lull him to sleep.

When he finally dozed off, hours later, he dreamt of an endless landscape of white plaster dotted with flag after colourful flag, and each time he pulled one up a new one sprouted in its place.

 

*

 

The thing about coming home is that nothing stays the same.

Louis had visited over the past few years, brought Nora home for the holidays and to his eldest sisters’ weddings. It was another thing entirely to be returning indefinitely, to have to choose a new supermarket and rediscover the best takeaway Chinese. Lottie was all too happy to give her suggestions over lunch the next day—after, of course, tactfully telling her older brother that he looked like shit.

“There’s a new Starbucks closer to Mum’s, but the pizza place we liked is gone,” Lottie explained, stirring dressing into her salad. “Oh, and there’s a new pub that Tommy and I go to. On Friday nights there’s usually music, and on Tuesday it’s trivia.” She grinned at him, the pale pink of her lipstick parting to reveal her teeth. “It’s good to have you home, Lou,” she said earnestly.

He smiled back at her. It was good to spend time with Lottie without the craziness of Christmas, without knowing he’d be leaving town in a few days and there was just never enough time to see his sisters and brother one-on-one like they deserved. He could make up for that now, he supposed. There was no one else to claim any of his free time. “Yeah,” he agreed, not quite over the feeling of defeat that had followed him from Manchester like his own personal rain cloud.

“Are you doing all right?” she asked, reaching across the table and resting her hand on his arm. Her big blue eyes overflowed with concern and, as much as he hated to admit it, pity.

He shrugged, letting his gaze fall to his plate. “I’m okay, Lots,” he said. “It’s been half a year, hasn’t it?”

She tightened her grip on his arm, thumb stroking along his wrist. “But it had been five before that,” she countered softly. “I’ve only been with Tommy for half as long, but it would destroy me if he left.”

Louis felt his mouth tighten into a thin line. Because it had destroyed him, losing Nora. He had glimpsed forever in her, and she had snatched it from his grasp. It wasn’t a perfect marriage by any means, but they had been happy. At least, he’d been happy. According to her, she wasn’t happy for a long time before the D word was brought up. “Yeah, well, you and Tommy are good together,” he reassured her. “Besides, if he ever hurt you I would cut his balls off.”

That made Lottie laugh. She playfully smacked at Louis’ arm before taking up her fork once more. “It’ll be all right, Lou,” she said with certainty. “You’re too wonderful to be single forever. Nora’s an idiot for letting you go.”

Louis smiled back at her, the expression not quite reaching his eyes, and busied himself with his sandwich while Lottie prattled on about her new job and Tommy’s mother and the strange noise her car was making. His life seemed to consist solely of little distractions now, things to steer his mind off course when the heading became too dangerous. Nora still flickered across his thoughts—how could she not, after five years together? But there was always a new distraction, a plaster over a gaping wound, and Louis carried on.

 

*

 

Louis settled into his new routine quickly. He went to work, he came home, he ordered takeaway. His mother insisted on having him to dinner regularly, so she could be certain he was eating a proper meal once a week. “I know how much you like to cook, love,” she teased, which wasn’t entirely fair: Louis had never minded cooking, it just never ended well for anyone or anything in the vicinity.

Sunday night was family dinner night, just as it had been when Louis was in school. The house was full and lively, the youngest twins bickering as they set the table while Lottie and the older twins helped in the kitchen. Jay was at the centre of it all, the calm eye of a Tomlinson-Deakin storm, and though there were more lines on her face and more grey hairs at her temple it was not hard to see the same mum who worked hard to put dinner on the table by herself for so many years. Like Lottie, there was a sadness in her eyes that seemed to bloom whenever she looked at Louis, but he knew it would fade in time. His divorce didn’t just effect him, after all—Jay and Nora had grown quite close over the years—and they were all still healing.

“When are you going to come out with us, Louis?” Tommy asked once everyone had been served. He sat in what used to be Fizzy’s chair, the second oldest of Louis’ siblings having moved to Birmingham with her new husband.

“Eventually,” Louis replied, cowed by the feeling of everyone looking at him curiously, as if he was a recently discovered species and they were all waiting to see how he reacted to a new stimulus. “I’m still trying to get settled in.”  
  
“You’ve been here a month,” Phoebe, one of the oldest twins, pointed out. “I’d say you’re settled.”

Jay clucked her tongue. “Don’t be rude, Phoebe. It isn’t easy to uproot your entire life and move somewhere new. Louis will go out when he’s ready.” She shot him a sympathetic smile.

“People have been asking after you,” Lottie persisted. “Niall, Liam, Harry… They would all really like to see you.”

The last name caught his attention. “Harry? As in Harry Styles?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know he was back in town.”

“Never left,” Jay said, piling more vegetables onto Ernest’s plate, much to his dismay. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. You boys used to be awful close.”

Awful close. That was one way to put it. Harry was a couple years younger than Louis, but they had become good friends in school. They had grown apart, as friends do, too much baggage between them to sustain a friendship long distance. But Harry had always been so vibrant, so enigmatic. It was startling to Louis that he wasn’t on a stage somewhere, charming everyone within earshot and making his dreams come true.

“I’ll think about it,” Louis promised Tommy quietly, and though the rest of the table had moved to another topic, his brother-in-law understood what Louis was saying. He grinned at Louis across the table, as if he knew for certain that Louis would be joining them next time.

 

*

 

Sure enough, Louis found himself agreeing to go out the next Friday. He would be meeting Tommy at the pub along with some of his old friends from school. Lottie had bowed out, claiming she had work to catch up on, though Louis suspected it was because she thought it would do Louis good to have a lads’ night.

It was pretty typical, for a pub, though it did seem to be quite popular. The music wasn’t too loud and the booth seats were new enough not to have any cracks or tears in the red vinyl.

Louis stood in the doorway feeling out of place, eyes darting around the room until he caught sight of Tommy’s enthusiastic wave. Louis smiled with relief as he made his way over to the booth, taking the spot next to Tommy.

“Glad you could make it,” Tommy said, sliding a pint across the table to Louis. He gestured across the table. “I’m sure you remember these two, yeah?”

Taking a sip of his beer, Louis glanced at the faces of the two men accompanying them and was overcome with nostalgia. It was like he was eighteen again, having a round with his mates to kick off the weekend. But he wasn’t eighteen; he was twenty-eight, and the years had carved valleys between them that Louis wasn’t quite sure they could traverse.

“Hey guys,” Louis said, offering up the beginnings of a smile. He was afraid they wouldn’t respond in kind—after all, he had been the one who lost contact.

Niall spoke first, his face spreading into a grin that emphasised the redness his cheeks took on after a few drinks. “Hey, Lou,” Niall replied, his accented voice just the same as Louis remembered. “It’s been awhile.”

“Too long,” Liam agreed from next to Niall, extending a hand for Louis to shake. “How have you been, man?” The strained edge in Liam’s voice hinted at the underlying question: How have you been since the divorce?

“I’ve been hanging in there,” Louis said, drumming his fingers against the perspiring pint glass in front of him. “Trying to get used to being back here again. What about you two?”

He listened as Niall and Liam filled him in on their lives. Some things he knew from Facebook—like that Liam and his girlfriend had just celebrated their first anniversary, and that Niall had taken up golfing. It was strange that there were entire sections of their lives Louis had missed on, especially since they had lived in each other’s pockets at school. They were so different, but enough was the same that Louis felt more and more at ease the longer they talked.

“Is anyone else still here?” Louis asked, wondering what had become of the rest of their friend group. “Lottie mentioned something about Harry. I’m a bit surprised he didn’t join us.”

“Just wait a few minutes,” Tommy chuckled, earning a look of confusion from Louis and a snicker from Niall. Louis didn’t have to puzzle it over for long, as soon the music in the pub grew quiet and someone stepped onto the small stage in the corner.

Liam nodded at the stage. “There he is,” he told Louis, but Louis would have recognised the man across the room anywhere. He was taller, skinnier, and more muscular in places Louis remembered being soft, but there was no mistaking Harry Styles. It had been five years since Louis had seen him, but suddenly it was as if no time passed at all.

“Hello,” Harry said into the microphone, adjusting the height of the stand. “I’m Harry. Thanks for having me.” His voice was just as slow as Louis recalled, but deeper now. More mature. The lips that formed the words were still the same, though, as was the dimple that hollowed Harry’s cheek when he beamed around the crowd. “I’m going to play just a few songs for you, if you don’t mind,” he announced, gently strumming at the guitar around his neck.

Louis turned to glare at Tommy accusingly. “Live music, eh?”

Tommy grinned back innocently. “Shut up and listen.”

So Louis listened. He listened to Harry’s voice layered over the acoustic guitar, to the beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking lyrics. He watched Harry keep his eyes closed and head down, as if even on stage he was trying not to draw too much attention. It was futile, however, as no one in the room could have avoided staring at him if they tried. Harry was talented, and charismatic, and by the time he finished his set there wasn’t a single person present who didn’t cheer for him.

“Well?” Niall asked, kicking Louis’ foot beneath the table. “What did you think? Fucking good, isn’t he?”

“Brilliant,” Louis agreed, still a little awestruck. He always knew Harry was meant for more than ordinary, and when he head that his old friend hadn’t left town, Louis thought Harry must have abandoned his dreams. In reality, it was just the opposite—Harry was chasing his dreams down after all, and Louis had no doubt he would accomplish anything he set out to achieve. “He does this every week?”

“Most Fridays,” Liam answered, watching as the next band got set up on the stage. “We keep telling him he needs to be performing in a city somewhere.”

“And I keep telling you I will when I’m ready,” a voice chimed in from nearby. The four men at the table turned to see Harry walking toward them. He stopped short when he noticed Louis, his green eyes going comically wide. “Louis.”

Louis felt his cheeks go pink at the sudden attention. “Hey, Harry,” he said softly. “You were great up there."

“Thanks,” Harry said, ducking his head so that a lock of curly brown hair fell into his face. “Erm, d’you mind if I sit down?”

It struck Louis strange that Harry would have to ask, that things between them had gotten so tense that Harry needed permission to so much as sit at the same table, until it dawned on him that they were in a booth and someone needed to scoot over to make room. Then Harry was sliding in next to him, their bodies touching in the narrow space, and Louis’ mouth went dry.

The conversation continued, Louis knows that it must have, though for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single word that was said. He was transported back to eighteen for the second time that evening, shivering and scared with warm, dry lips pressed against his own in the most forbidden of kisses.

“How about you, Louis?”

Louis snapped to attention, realising he must have zoned out on the conversation. All the lads were looking at him expectantly, Harry close enough that Louis could press their faces together if he wanted and it was just so goddamn distracting. “Er, yeah, sounds good.” He had no idea what he was agreeing to, and no one felt the need to tell him, but it made Harry smile and Louis decided that was all right.

It was Tommy who ducked out first, feigning exhaustion as he kept stealing glances at his phone. Louis had a feeling his sister was to blame, though he didn’t let himself ponder the content of those messages. Niall and Liam left as a unit, Liam explaining that they lived close enough to share a cab, and then it was just Harry and Louis.

It hadn’t been just Harry and Louis for a long time.

They sat in silence, awkwardly crammed into the same side of the booth with years and miles and mountains between them. Louis stared down at the table, counting the rings of water from their pint glasses as though they might tell him exactly what to say. They didn’t, and that was fine, because Harry spoke first.

“D’you want to go somewhere?” Harry asked in that quiet way of his, a nervous current rippling through the words. “It’s just, I’m always a bit wound up after performing. Not ready to go straight home.”

“Sure,” Louis replied, his brain supplying the answer without consulting with him first. He followed Harry out of the pub and into the cool night air, rubbing at his arms more out of habit than actually being cold. “Where to?”

Harry smiled, all teeth and mischief, and nodded down the block. “The diner’s still open.

Louis didn’t have to ask which diner. He knew the one. It was the same one they used to frequent in their younger days after nights out. He was a bit surprised to hear it was still open, but then again he supposed that some things didn’t change after all.

It was surreal, walking into the diner and sitting in what used to be their usual spot. Louis supposed it was someone else’s usual spot now—or did Harry come here often enough to still claim it as his? And who was it that sat at the table with him?

The waitress took their orders, and Louis didn’t even have to think before asking for the same thing he always got, a cheeseburger with chips, like literal years hadn’t passed since the last time he had eaten here. Harry watched him with a bemused grin before ordering a veggie burger.

“So you’re a vegetarian now?” Louis asked once their menus had been taken away.

“Nah. I just really like their veggie burgers,” Harry said with a grin. He fiddled with his straw wrapper, and Louis could see the guitar string calluses on the tips of Harry’s long fingers.

They fell into a stilted silence, each sipping at his drink and making nervous eye contact. It was like a blind date, and in a way it was—after five years of no contact, Louis didn’t have the first clue who the man across from him was. The way Harry was looking at him now, he wondered if Harry saw the man Louis had become, or the boy who had been the source of Harry’s Gay Awakening all those years ago.

He’d met Harry at school. Louis was older and didn’t have many younger friends, but his mum and Harry’s had hit it off and he sought the boy out. He knew it could be difficult being the new kid so late in the year, and Harry took to him quickly. Louis thought of himself as a big brother, a role he was used to filling, and taught Harry all of his secrets.

As the years passed, people commented on how close they were, and both boys brushed it off. They were HarryandLouis, all one word, and it didn’t really matter what other people thought. Then a sobbing Harry came to Louis one night, scared of something he couldn’t put a name to, and when he kissed Louis on the mouth Louis could taste the tears on his lips. He didn’t push Harry away.

 “What are you thinking about?” Harry asked, and Louis knew better than to lie. He never could lie to Harry, and didn’t reckon the years had changed that.

“I was thinking about the night you kissed me,” he admitted, and it was a sick sort of pleasure that grew in his gut at the way Harry’s lips involuntarily twisted into a smile.

Harry quickly regained control of his expression, eyes drifting down to the scuffed tabletop. “That was a long time ago. I didn’t know any better.”

“You didn’t apologise for it then, don’t start now,” Louis replied, hoping Harry could hear the teasing tone in his voice. “I was just thinking that we’ve both changed a lot, that’s all.” He gestured to himself. “I got married and moved away, and I have no idea what you’ve been up to.”

“Could’ve given me a ring any time,” Harry muttered, taking a sip of his water. “Or looked me up when you were in town. I’ve never avoided you.”

Louis wanted to defend himself, but their food came and he shut his mouth and let the waitress set the plates down in front of them.

They had kept kissing, was the thing. And as they got older, kissing led to touching led to sex. They were each other’s first, and it didn’t have to mean anything, Louis promised, but they both knew it did. He knew Harry wanted to be his boyfriend, wanted to hold his hand at school and steal kisses between classes. But Louis was months away from going to uni by then, and as much as he cared for Harry, he didn’t think they’d survive the distance. Harry talked about following Louis to Manchester in a couple years, but Louis didn’t want that. He wanted Harry to find his own path, follow his own dreams, and not get caught up in the first boy he’d ever been with.

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me,” Louis admitted finally, dragging the same chip through ketchup enough times that it had gone soggy. “When I was in town, and I would meet up with the lads, you would never come. I figured it was because of me.”

“It was,” Harry admitted coolly, the change in his demeanor shocking Louis into dropping his chip. The younger man sighed, setting down his burger and wiping his hands free of grease. “Listen, Louis. It crushed me when you moved away. I lost my best friend in the entire world. But I always thought you’d come back for me once you’d finished uni, and then you just… didn’t.”

Louis frowned. “I met Nora,” he explained. “You knew that. We were still speaking when I started seeing her.”

Harry’s eyes had gone glassy. “Yeah, and it hurt. But I wanted to be happy for you. I wanted to see _you_ happy. And then you didn’t even invite me to the fucking wedding.”

Louis recoiled at the venom in Harry’s tone. “You– you never seemed to want to hear about her. I was sure you wouldn’t want to come.” He swallowed hard, reeling for an explanation that didn’t sound like utter shite. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate it very much.”

“I knew you were over me, Lou,” Harry said with a dark chuckle. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want my friend back. That was when I knew you didn’t even consider me a friend anymore.”

It stung, to hear Harry say that, but he was right. He was so concerned about doing what was best Harry, about trying not to hurt Harry’s feelings, that he had stopped being his friend altogether. “I’m sorry,” Louis said lamely, trying to quell an inferno with a spray bottle. “I do want to be your friend, Harry. I only came out tonight because Lottie said you would be there. I haven’t been coping well at all.”

Harry’s expression softened, the anger yielding to concern. “With the divorce? What happened?”

“She didn’t love me anymore,” Louis said with a shrug. “We wanted different things. And I drank milk straight out of the bottle,” he added with a sad smile. It was a joke, but that had been one of the last fights they’d had before he’s come home to a half-empty closet and a note on his pillow.

Harry didn’t smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s been hard on you. And that’s why you’re back here?”

“Needed the distance. Couldn’t stand the thought of running into her at the supermarket.” _Especially not with her new boyfriend,_ Louis’ brain supplied. That had been the tipping point in his deciding to move. He wanted her to be happy and to move on, but he also didn’t need a visual reminder that she was capable of finding happiness without him when he felt nothing but pain.

Harry reached across the table, stroking the back of Louis’ hand. “You’re amazing, Lou. It’s her loss,” he said, and tightened his grip when Louis scoffed. “I’m serious. You aren’t that easy to get over, d’you know that? I mean, it’s been ten years and I’m still writing songs about you.” His eyes went wide, as if he hadn’t meant to share that particular bit of information.

It dawned on Louis immediately. There had been a song Harry played tonight that resonated with Louis, seemed to cut him to the quick and expose his bleeding heart for the entire pub to see. “The ghost one?” he asked softly.

Harry nodded shamefully. “’We’re not who we used to be. We’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me,’” he quoted, then laughed at himself. “Go on, you can tell me I’m pathetic.”

“I could,” Louis agreed, grabbing at Harry’s hand before he could pull away. “But I’m not going to.” He offered up a smile, an olive branch, and when Harry smiled back he knew that there was still a chance to close the yawning gap between them.

 

*

 

It started with Friday nights. Louis came to every show, with or without their other friends, and each time he and Harry would venture to the diner after a few pints.

Then it was Tuesdays, where they never won at trivia but had a lot of fun filling in ridiculous answers and coming up with inappropriate team names for the host to read out. It was a Tuesday night the first time this Louis kissed this Harry, schoolboys all over again, except this time there was beer on their lips instead of tears.

Then it was Saturday nights, which turned into Sunday mornings, and five years didn’t seem so long beneath the covers as they relearned each other’s bodies. There were still wounds to heal, and forgiving to be done, but they were well on their way to becoming HarryandLouis again, closing the spaces between the words more and more each day.

The thing about coming home is that nothing stays the same. There were new people and places to discover, and old people and places that had undergone renovations. In the midst of it all there was Harry, who was somehow the same and different all at once, and Louis suddenly didn’t feel like such a failure anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I apologize for any errors. Please feel free to reblog the fic post! For whatever reason ao3 won’t let me link it, but you can find it here: 
> 
> http://icanhazzalou.tumblr.com/post/175731506271/icanhazzalou-title-needing-is-one-thing-and 
> 
> Be sure to check out the other amazing fics in the collection!


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